


A Good Arrangement

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe-No Magic, Baby Teddy - Freeform, Car problems, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Sirius, Past Remus/Tonks - Freeform, Single dad Remus, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: His words are cut off when the mechanic stumbles in and takes Remus’ hand without ceremony and pumps it once, then twice, then stops but keeps their palms pressed together.  “Sirius Black.”“Remus Lupin,” he replies, swallowing thickly.Sirius’ mouth quirks into something like a smirk and he leans just a little closer and says, “Yeah, I know.  Paperwork.”





	A Good Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [famousyellowraincoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/famousyellowraincoat/gifts).



> No more lectures, and 99% of my work is turned in, so celebrating with some Wolfstar! For famousyellowraincoat who put in tumblr tags wanting some Wolfstar cuddling over baby Teddy. So I thought...why not.

It’s just gone half noon, he’s in some of the worst traffic London has to offer—total gridlock behind some sort of beast masquerading as a road-worthy vehicle, it’s pissing rain, Teddy’s in his seat screaming like he’s going to bring down the heavens upon this shithole city…

And his car dies.

It just sort of sputters, and dies, and the lights go off, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get it to start again.

Not even with curses and prayers as the car behind him lays on the horn to indicate it’s time for him to go.

Like he doesn’t _know that already, thank you very much, kind sir._

Teddy’s screaming reaches a fever-pitch and the cars behind him are even more furious, and the heavens open up just a little bit more and Remus just thinks, _Of course_.

Because this is his life.

*** 

At the mechanics nearly two hours later—an hour and a half of which was spent trying to get round the rest of the shite traffic to get his car out of everyone’s way—Remus is staring at the receptionist who has a quote for him on a white piece of computer paper. Teddy’s in the papoose, facing Remus’ chest and gnawing at the open space where there were buttons once, and he’s sniffling because it sounds like he’s on the verge of poorly because, again, _of course_.

The numbers on the paper far exceed what Remus has left over from his pay, and it’s not like people can’t get round London without a car. Frankly he was very much against the whole car thing for years until Tonks showed up at his door with that look in their eyes and a white stick with a little plus mark on the front and said, “I’m moving to Cardiff. Oh, also, I’m pregnant.”

Normally when you split with a person, someone takes the cat, and you split books, and you get left with the hideous quilt your ex’s gran made you for Bonfire Night because apparently in their family that’s a _thing_. Normally your ex doesn’t show up at your doorstep six weeks after what you like to think of as your most mature, amicable split in the history of humankind to tell you that they’re up the bloody duff with your kid, oh and also taking a promotion in another sodding country.

 _Oh_ , and also they want to let you know this doesn’t have to be about you.

So Remus gets a better job at an office he hates and works more hours than his body wants him to, and he buys the car off his dad who seems reluctant to part ways even though it was crafted in the fucking eighties and clearly on its last legs—as Remus is coming to realise here now sopping wet in the mechanic’s shop after having waited two hours to find out it’s going to cost fifteen-hundred quid just to get it running again without a guarantee that it’ll still be running in a month.

He looks down at Teddy’s chubby cheeks and reminds himself it’s worth it. Then he looks back up at the nice woman and says, “Can I just talk to the mechanic?”

She nods at the door and says, “Through there,” before realising that maybe taking a child into an auto mechanic bay is not the most clever of ideas, and she holds up a finger. “Er…wait here. No…wait in that office over there. Shitting hell, I’m not good at this job. I’m just a temp you know,” she blabbers, then actually reaches out and physically shoves Remus toward a closed door with a crooked plaque that reads, **Office**.

Remus decides that of all the shit he’s gone through with today, this is kind of the best part because he doesn’t seem like the only fish out of water here in this little lobby. He scuffs his feet over the faded, ugly linoleum flooring and goes into the office.

It’s dark, and has that sort of acrid motor oil and petrol smell, and even though it’s cold and still raining, there’s no heat on. The lights are off, and he finds a switch along the wall, and it illuminates a cluttered desk with a leather office chair that looks like several cats have had a go at it with teeth and claws. There’s two folding chairs, one of which Remus takes and is not surprised to find it’s one of the most uncomfortable places he’s sat in a long while.

He heaves out a sigh and waits.

And waits.

And he knows the mechanic is probably less than thrilled to come meet with a customer who wants to talk him down on price or…whatever. Maybe yell at him. It’s a mechanic but it’s also a form of retail and Remus knows damn well what dealing with customers are like. His entire uni career he worked part time at a little shop near Piccadilly, and yeah most of the terrible customers were American tourists but all the same…he still knows.

So he puts on his most patient face and tries to give off a vibe of, ‘I’m not trying to talk you down, I just want to see what little I can get away with fixing for now because I’m broke as shit and that’s not going to change as long as this child is going through nappies and onesies like it’s the only job in the world.’

Teddy’s starting to get fussy, and Remus has stood up to pace and bounce him a little in the papoose when the door finally opens and a man walks in.

Remus wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. He supposes something a little more stereotypical—definitely he expected someone a little older and maybe with less hair—or at least less fabulous hair. He did expect the whole grease-stained jumpsuit look, but he didn’t expect to like it so much.

But the person stood in front of him could have easily fit into one of those slam-poetry hipster cafes with his long, coarse, wavy hair curled in a messy bun, and the sharp angles of his jawline, and the storm-grey eyes narrowed in what’s obviously already defence.

He’s just missing one of those slender clove cigarettes and hand-knitted fingerless gloves.

“Hi,” Remus forces himself to say. “Thank you for meeting with me. I was wondering…”

“I can’t knock the cost down any lower,” the mechanic says, and there’s an edge to his voice, which is surprisingly deep for someone with such sharp angles.

Remus clears his throat. “No yeah I…that’s what I expected. I’m not looking for a discount. It’s only just, I have no money. I have a creature which spent nine months of his life draining his other parent of nutrients and blood and oxygen, and now he’s draining my bank account.”

The man’s lip twitches just slightly, and his eyes go from narrowed to a little wider and slightly more amused. “I’ve heard about that phenomenon. Little parasites.”

“It’s true,” Remus says, heaving a sigh. “They’re pretty cute though, so it makes up for it. Anyway, I was just…I mean it’s probably a fruitless request, but I was kind of hoping maybe you could get it running without doing all those things,” he gestures at the list. “Maybe just some that cost below five hundred?”

There’s conflict playing out on the mechanic’s face, and he reaches for the itemised sheet, and his eyes move rapidly back and forth as he reads the frighteningly long list. “You know, I have to say I’m impressed you’ve kept it running this long.”

Remus can’t help a laugh. “Oh that’s all down to my mam. My dad kept it after she died. He let me buy it off him after Teds was born since his other parent lives in Cardiff and I’ve heard newborns aren’t overly keen on riding trains that long.”

The mechanic’s eyes widen even more. “You…” He stops, like he’s pondering his words, then says, “Your dad actually took money off you for that piece of shit?”

“Oy!” Remus says, but it’s not like he can really defend it. It truly is a piece of shit. “It was important to him.”

The mechanic worries his bottom lip between his teeth, then he finally looks up and says, “Can you come back Friday? I think I can work something out. I can’t promise it’ll get you to Cardiff and _back_ , but I think it’ll get you there at least once.”

“And if it breaks down on the way home, I’ll just make my peace with it and live in the wilderness,” Remus says.

The mechanic’s lips twitch into a smile again and he leans toward Remus just slightly to say, “Well, I think there are worse places to live.”

Remus feels himself go into a full-body blush, and he sighs. “I really appreciate it.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the cute parasite,” the mechanic says, then winks. “I’ll ring you Friday when it’s sorted.”

Remus breathes out a huge thanks, and resolves not to feel bad at all when he calls his neighbour Mary to ask if she’d be willing to brave the shitty traffic and get him and Teddy home.

*** 

Remus almost forgets about the cute mechanic. Or well, that’s not strictly true. He tries to forget about the cute mechanic, and fails, but throws himself into both work and the whole being a parent thing as he waits for the shop to call and let him know that his life is back on track, and he can go back to not knowing the shop and the cute person working inside it ever existed.

Friday comes round and with it another bout of pissing rain and cold. He’s pacing the flat and staring at the little heavy bunting he got out for Teddy cos he’ll have to take him in the pram since Mary’s not home and he really does need to get his car as soon as possible.

He’s just nearly worn a hole in his floor when there’s a soft knock on the door. He jumps, confused because who the hell is coming round to his—he doesn’t know people, his life is too busy and chaotic to know people. He says a prayer it’s not going to be some strange youth trying to hand out religious tracts, and he carefully opens the door a crack.

Then his heart is in his throat and his lungs are devoid of any air because stood there is the mechanic looking…decidedly not mechanic-y. He’s in ripped jeans and a leather jacket and motorbike boots. His hair is up, the way it was before, though he’s got curly little flyaways near his temple. He’s also cleaner, though when Remus glances down at the hand he’s got on the door jamb, he can see flecks of dark oil in the creases of his knuckles.

“Hi,” he says, and rubs the back of his neck, looking shy suddenly. “Sorry I’ve been ringing? But erm…there was no answer, and then I realised it’s pouring rain and you’ve got the cute parasite. And I’ve heard they frown on exposing children to the elements these days.”

Remus can’t help the laugh that’s all-but punched out of him, and he takes a step back without realising it. “I…” he starts, then just turns and walks to the table where he left his phone. And… “Oh bloody hell,” he breathes, because sure enough, the battery’s gone dead. “I’m so sorry. I’d say I’m not usually this much of a disaster, but that would be a lie.”

The mechanic’s stepped in now, still hovering near the open door, looking like he’s not sure where to go. “I don’t mind,” he says. “Disasters are kind of my thing. Hence the mechanic shop.”

Remus laughs again, flushing, then blurts, “Tea?”

The mechanic’s eyes widen, and he laughs. “You don’t want to rush off to get your car?”

“I mean yes? But you also came all this way in this rain so…” Remus shrugs. “Tea?” he says again.

“Sure.”

Remus turns and almost trips on his way to flick the kettle on, and he pulls two mugs—neither of them with chips in the sides—and he bangs two bags into the bottom and wishes he were the fancier sort who has those cute little infusers shaped like unicorns or manatees or even just plain silver.

He turns, and startles to find the mechanic hovering in the doorway to the kitchen, the look on his face saying that he was raised with enough manners to think that poking his head into a stranger’s kitchen is a bit rude. “No milk? I’m…I don’t take dairy.”

“I’ve got soya if you like. Or just plain black if you prefer.”

“I always prefer black,” he says in return, like it’s a joke. When Remus looks decidedly confused, the mechanic’s cheeks flare a bright red. “Holy shit. I never introduced myself?”

Remus shrugs. “I mean…it’s not that big of a deal but…”

His words are cut off when the mechanic stumbles in and takes Remus’ hand without ceremony and pumps it once, then twice, then stops but keeps their palms pressed together. “Sirius Black.”

“Remus Lupin,” he replies, swallowing thickly.

Sirius’ mouth quirks into something like a smirk and he leans just a little closer and says, “Yeah, I know. Paperwork.”

“I. Right.” Remus coughs and removes his hand as delicately as he can, and is relieved when Sirius doesn’t look offended. The kettle flicks off and Remus pours as he listens for Teddy who seems to be asleep still—small miracles, really.

They both take their teas in hand and go to the lounge where they hover without sitting, and drink and kind of stare like neither of them know what to say. And the thing is, Remus is good with random things. Like getting pissed at clubs and hitting on the first cute thing that walks by.

He’s even not half bad at taking those random moments and turning them into something longer, and maybe a little more meaningful. Which apparently sometimes end in baby, but that’s beside the point.

But this is something new, and different, and he can’t deny that he’s attracted to Sirius, and he’s certainly not going to pretend like he doesn’t know Sirius is sort of flirting with him. But he doesn’t exactly know what to _do_ with that, because he’s already showed what a disaster he is as a working single dad with a shite car and no money. 

Remus tries his best not to appear grateful when Teddy wakes with a wail, and he also tries to pretend like it isn’t destroying him in kind of the best way when Sirius walks over and starts cooing at the baby like he knows what he’s doing.

“You have kids?” Remus mutters as he snaps Teddy into his bunting.

Sirius grins as he pokes at Teddy’s cheeks, getting a rather wide grin out of him. “Godson,” he murmurs. “Older than this now. Trying to convince them to have a few more. I like when they’re cute and small like this.”

Remus laughs. “I think one’s enough for me.”

“Yeah well, he seems like a pretty fantastic one, and why mess with perfection,” Sirius says.

Remus kind of wants to kiss him right there.

But he doesn’t.

*** 

They get to the shop, and Remus finds the car in mostly good working order, and it’s even cleaner than when he brought it in, the inside pleasant with a faint vanilla scent. The shop also appears to be closed, and Sirius hands over the bill which reads a hundred and fifty quid which Remus is pretty sure is a mistake.

“Erm…this isn’t…I mean…”

Sirius looks up from where he’s writing something in a leather-bound book, and he raises a brow. “What’s that?”

“Just. That’s not very much,” Remus says carefully. “I can afford more, you know? I mean, if more needs to be done.”

“It’s sorted,” Sirius says, and there’s something in his tone that books no argument.

Remus only takes a second to realise exactly what Sirius has done. And a tiny piece of him flares with resentment because he hates charity and pity. But the bigger part of him tells that tiny piece to shut the hell up because he’s a single parent with no money and he needs this car to last a bit longer, and Sirius has just made it possible without making a big production out of it.

So Remus writes a cheque and hands it over, and Sirius tucks it into his deposit book.

Remus wants to say something, to ensure Sirius actually deposits the cheque, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. Especially because a moment later Teddy starts fussing in his seat and Sirius plucks him up from it like it’s nothing, and bounces him until Teddy gives a tiny laugh.

Then proceeds to open his mouth and unleash milky hell all over Sirius’ front.

Because of course he would.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god,” Remus splutters, and Sirius looks vaguely horrified, but not really angry or anything as he hands Teddy over and walks to his office. He comes back out shirtless, and oh my _god_ Remus didn’t need to know Sirius could get more attractive. He’s got defined abs, and all that mechanic work has gone straight to his arms which have been hidden beneath that jumpsuit—something that should be considered a crime.

Remus tries not to watch the way Sirius’ chest ripples with motion as he pulls a white t-shirt on over his head, and he tries not to spontaneously combust when Sirius just throws him a wink and says, “No harm, and just a little foul.”

Remus rolls his eyes, because he’s never been well-equipped to deal with _feelings_ , and he goes back to clearing Teddy’s face up. “I guess he wanted to make sure you knew he appreciated what you’ve done for us as well.”

“Maybe in the future just pay me with money for services rendered,” Sirius says, reaching over and poking Teddy on the nose.

Teddy grins, and wriggles his feet a little as Remus tries to wrestle him back into the bunting.

“So,” Remus says when the baby’s sorted and the bill is paid and well…this is sort of it, isn’t it?

“I should follow you home,” Sirius blurts.

Remus blinks at him. “Erm.”

“Just in case. I mean, I tested it out and everything, even let it idle for a while in traffic and it was fine but…I don’t…it’s probably best if I at least assure you can get back home.”

Remus glances out the window and sees it’s stopped raining, and he thinks he should say no because where would this even go. But the look on Sirius’ face is hopeful enough, and Remus allows himself a momentary fantasy of asking Sirius up for take away, and maybe watching some TV, and after Teddy goes to sleep they can…

Remus clears his throat. “I suppose I can allow it.”

Sirius laughs, then leans in and kisses Teddy on the forehead. “I’ll meet you by the car,” then bangs Remus the keys and heads out the back door.

Remus berates himself for playing with fire, but he gets Teddy into his seat and then hauls him out the front door and goes into the bay where his car is waiting. He sees the lights inside flicker off, and hears a beep of a security alarm, and Remus affixes Ted into the car seat base and then turns to find Sirius walking a massive chrome motorbike out before closing the garage doors.

“You drive that?” he blurts.

Sirius laughs. “Well obviously not if I’ve got a baby to transport. But yes. Normally I drive my baby.”

Remus wants to say something else, but he’s at a loss for words, so he just gestures toward the road and Sirius nods, and Remus gets in. His car starts like a dream—better than it has even when his mam had it, he thinks. And he pulls away from the shop and Sirius revs his engine, and then stays close behind.

*** 

It’s all well and good, and they get to Remus’ block and he finds parking not far off. He thinks maybe this is it, and Sirius is just going to wave at him as he passes. But instead he manages to squeeze the bike in behind him, and maybe it’s fate because the moment he steps off, the skies open up and the rain begins to fall like it’s the start to Noah’s flood.

Sirius shouts, and Remus quickly throws a blanket over Teddy, and neither of them consider anything else as they make a run for the doors. They skid to a halt in the lobby, then Remus and Sirius stare just long enough for a quick shrug, and for Sirius to hold the door open to the stairs.

Luckily Remus’ flat is still warm, and luckily Sirius has decided he feels at home enough, because as Remus is shucking his wet coat, and hanging the sopping blanket on the back of a chair, Sirius is pulling Teddy out from the carrier and hoisting him on his shoulder like he was born to do it.

It shouldn’t be as attractive as it is, but well…apparently that does it for him these days.

Instead of ordering delivery and forcing some delivery person to brave the deluge, Remus pulls out pastrami and the loaf of rye he usually keeps for his toast. As Sirius lays Teddy out on a blanket and talks quietly to him like Teddy somehow knows the secrets to the universe, Remus puts together a meagre meal, lays it all out on his mam’s old tea tray which he never uses, then walks into the lounge.

Sirius looks up with raised brows and a faint grin. “Looks good.”

“It’s kosher. I mean…I’m not…well I try but I’m not good at it. But there’s a deli,” Remus fumbles, then shrugs. He glances out the window, then at the clock, then sets everything down. “I hope this is okay. You didn’t take dairy so I wasn’t sure about the meat.”

“Health thing,” Sirius says as though it explains everything, and seizes a sandwich.

Remus takes his own, and they sit cross-legged with their knees almost touching, and Teddy under his hanging floor mobile, entranced by the glowing lights on the plastic animals, and the soft music coming from the cloth-covered speaker.

“He’s a good baby,” Sirius remarks. “Must get it from you.”

Remus snorts and shakes his head. “Tonks is…okay they’re not better behaved, but they have it a bit more together than I do.”

“Have you been split long?” Sirius asks.

Remus shrugs. “We split six weeks before they found out they were pregnant,” he admits. He briefly wonders why he’s opening up so quick like this, but hell, none of this has been conventional, and he’s pretty sure this dinner here means something. Or it will, by the end. “We agreed to do this co-parenting thing, which isn’t easy since they live in Cardiff and I’m here.”

“Did you think about moving?” Sirius asks.

Remus laughs. “Yes, of course. I grew up in a little village near the city, but I came here for Uni and somehow this horrible city grew on me. Like mould. I think about it some days but…” He trails off, not sure how to explain that he’s always felt a compulsion to stay here instead of move house, and now it was kind of making sense. Because that would make him sound mad. Or at the very least would send Sirius running for the hills.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Sirius just says in reply.

And Remus smiles.

Then there’s thunder which…what?

And then the lights flicker off and stay that way.

Teddy doesn’t seem to mind since his mobile is on battery, but Remus tenses until he feels Sirius’ reach across the space and take his hand. “This happen a lot?” he asks.

Remus sighs. “Last time we were out of power until mid afternoon. It’s not that bad. Probably going to lose food but…” But Sirius had under-charged him by way too much for the car, so he could afford to replace some things.

He was starting to maybe re-think how much the Universe hated him.

“Can I,” Sirius starts, then hesitates. “Do you want me to go? I’d like to stay but…”

Remus licks his lips. “Teddy kind of sleeps with me? Erm. He’s going through a phase, and I haven’t been in this flat long so…I mean I want you to stay but…”

“I don’t mind,” Sirius says.

And Remus thinks maybe _he_ should mind. Because moving fast is never a great idea. But is it moving fast when you’re going to fall asleep in a bed with someone with a baby between you?

In the end, Remus doesn’t light his candles or say his prayers, and instead carries a very sleepy Teddy into his bedroom with Sirius close at his heels. They dress down—boxers and t-shirts—and they climb into bed. Remus creates a wall of pillows round Teddy and Sirius and Remus curl up on either side of it, their heads up near the headboard.

Teddy’s eyes are starting to sink closed, and Sirius reaches over, drawing a finger down Teddy’s nose slow and methodical until his eyes blink…blink…shut, and stay that way. Sirius grins at him, and Remus whisper-laughs.

“I bet your godson’s parents love you.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Of course they do. I’m amazing.”

“You are,” Remus says, deciding there’s no point in hiding it.

In the faint glow of Sirius’ mobile, Remus thinks he can make out a faint blush. “Oh,” is all he says.

Then he reaches out, over Teddy’s pillow wall, and he brushes a few curls back from Remus’ forehead. He tangles his fingers in them, and Remus shifts as close as he can, and leans into the touch.

They don’t kiss. It’s probably the perfect moment for it, but it’s also strangely perfect that they don’t. Sirius looks content, maybe satisfied. The way Remus feels.

“I’ll make breakfast in the morning,” Sirius says, sounding sleepy.

Remus nods, hums, snuggles down and lets Sirius continue to play with his hair until he’s nearly asleep. “Tea is on me, then,” Remus says, the last words to escape his mouth before he’s asleep.

Just before unconsciousness takes him, he hears Sirius whisper, “Sounds like a good arrangement.”


End file.
